


Perfectly Dressed

by Rubynye



Category: DC Comics
Genre: Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-14
Updated: 2010-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 06:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim disagrees sharply with Dick's fashion choices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfectly Dressed

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed, no real timeline though certainly before the arcs of 2004.

This is all [](http://brown-betty.livejournal.com/profile)[**brown_betty**](http://brown-betty.livejournal.com/)'s fault. Completely.

Title: Perfectly Dressed  
Rating: PG-13, I think?  
Fandom: DC Comics  
Pairing: Nightwing/Robin III (Dick/Tim. again. the extent to which these two are my OTP in this fandom is unnerving.)  
Warnings: Dick's fashion sense, zip-strips, sharp steel (no, not like that. Well, a little. But not really.)  
Disclaimer: They're not mine. But I like to think they pull stunts like this every so often, between panels.  
Author's notes: Unbetaed, no real timeline though certainly before the arcs of 2004.  


 

"I really like this shirt." Knowing that if he raises his voice the laugh will be audible, Dick aims somewhere between sternness and a pout. Also, he tries not to breathe too deeply. He _could_ get out of the zip-strips. Or he can widen his eyes at Tim.

Tim gives Dick a reproving look before turning his attention back to his task, and the tip of his tongue peeks soft and sharp between his lips as he concentrates. The knife is impractically large, which is probably part of the point. "All the more reason, then. It's hideous, Dick."

"It is _not_ hideous." Dick takes a breath that's slightly too deep, and cool steel brushes his chest. Tim pauses and mildly glares at him. "It's not," Dick insists, as the shirt in question parts in probably irreparable ways, sagging open. "It's colorful."

"It's _paisley_." Tim lifts away a scrap of cloth with the knife, kindly holding it up as he leans down and blows on Dick's nipple.

Dick shivers obligingly, but bites his cheek. He's not going to moan. Yet. "Are you---" Dick's voice emerges high and cracked. He stops, shakes, swallows, and starts over. "Are you planning to do this to all my clothes?"

"If you're wearing something this awful next time I come over, then yes." Tim tugs, a slight flick of his wrist, and the shirt collapses into a pile of uneven shreds to either side of Dick. Tim bites down on the knife to hold it, which makes him look breathtakingly feral, or perhaps it's the glint in his eyes as he clears off Dick's chest with two firm strokes. Dick gasps through his nose, but it's a gasp all the same, and the side of Tim's mouth curls up, above the point of the knife.

Then Tim sits back, takes the knife out of his mouth, settles onto Dick's hips, and looks him over. Thoroughly. "That's a distinct improvement."

"I don't have a _shirt_ on anymore." It's really, really difficult to pout with Tim sitting there. Especially when he rocks, once, and gives Dick one of his own smirks back, then shifts backwards to straddle Dick's calves. "One more thing and you'll be perfectly dressed."

Dick freezes in mid-heaving-sigh when the flat of the knife skims his navel. "God, Tim, not the jeans!"

Tim just grins and gets to work.


End file.
